Ailill breathed deep the comfortable companionship between them. Over time he had come to relax in Siobhan’s presence. As she began to trust him with the fillies in their care he had been able to be more of himself. His playful nature had quickly taken hold as he followed the fillies to and fro on all of their adventures. The times the tropic’s storms shook the earth he had tracked them all down and found them shelter, only to tease and tossle at them in the caves so they would not be scared. He looked now at Siobhan, a smile on his face, though his heart ached for her. The love she held for Bjorn was true and deep. He could not fathom what she was feeling or the sense of loss having never needed to wonder what had happened to the other side of such a deep connection. Though he desired to do more, he knew all he could do for her was remain as he was, always within reach if she ever chose to take a step.

Roisin, on the other hand, was a completely different story. He fit easily into the title of ‘Uncle’ and would never hesitate to explain to either of the children the difference between blood and spirit kin, and how neither were stronger, closer, or more important than the other. If Roisin had ever asked about her father, Ailill would speak kindly about the nordic pony and explain the two had a close friendship and a trust that had been strong. Just as if Aislinn asked about her blood father, the golden stallion would never speak ill about the sire he never met, but also made it clear that the filly could rely on his loyalty to her.

A soft ear flicked to the mare at her response, blue eyes watching the child watch the beautiful bird. He smiled and encouraged her forward with a nod when she beamed at him, his soul warming in pleasure at her joy. The smile fades as Siobhan continues and his ears flit back, her words settling on his consciousness. He did not think the stallion would leave them without good reason, he had just wished they had known why. When Rosion scrambled up to them, the stallion’s grin became as brilliant as the lost bird’s plumage. It was stunning! His visage shifted to one of feigned abashment. I am sorry, I had been distracted by flowers, and Aislinn found a meadow of fresh blooms to roll around in. It was just down the path a little ways. Once I knew she was going to be okay, I came back to you. He finished with a gentle stomp of his foot to had an honest finality to his explanation about his whereabouts. He hoped the little filly would believe him. After all, he was telling the truth.

Siobhan’s final words brought a somber mask to the stallion’s face. I do not think there is anything you could force me to do that I would not have willingly stepped to do anyway. he said softly, just loud enough for her to hear. His tail swished unconsciously while he muddled over her implication. It was not in him to try to unseat the dark mare who had come to their home, he did not believe that was necessary. I think, if we speak to her, we could make an agreement. Ailill shifted uncomfortably with the thoughts in his mind. He had been a lead stallion once and had found the role had been hard for him. Deep within him he longed for a family, a herd to protect. Paradise had been his home once but now, looking into the faces of Roisin, Aislinn, and Siobhan, he felt he could be steadfast in a love for The Ridge. More concerned him and he glanced over at Siobhan. He never could, and never would, ‘claim’ a mare. Unless it was to protect her from someone or something far more sinister than a formality. I think, perhaps, she might let us stay with her herd, or separate but still here.